


Falling Awake

by Polomonkey



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Angst, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Friends to Lovers, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Misunderstandings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-02
Updated: 2017-07-24
Packaged: 2018-10-14 04:42:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10529184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Polomonkey/pseuds/Polomonkey
Summary: Merlin can't remember what happened last night, or why he's woken up bruised and alone in Arthur's bed. Fearing the worst of Arthur, he flees, but does he have the full picture?





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LFB72](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LFB72/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Art: How could you?](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9675356) by [LFB72](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LFB72/pseuds/LFB72). 



> This is an extremely belated birthday present for the wonderful LFB72, who continues to produce such lovely works of art for the Merlin fandom. I hope you don't mind me taking a crack at a fic inspired by your brilliant art and prompt! <3 Also fills my h/c bingo prompt 'assault'
> 
> Please read the tags, this fic does contain an attempted sexual assault which is prevented from occurring (not between A/M)

It was the light that woke him, too harsh and too bright to be the morning sun. When Merlin’s eyes cracked open (slowly, sluggishly, blinking against the glare), the first thing he saw were two sconce style lights above him.

This was not his ceiling. Nor his bed, now that he tensed his legs against the mattress. It was too soft, too wide, the sheets were red instead of white…

Merlin sat up and was immediately assaulted by a wave of pain. His stomach, his side, his face; they were all throbbing like he’d fallen down a flight of stairs. Perhaps he had? And someone had taken him back to their house to rest…

But why not to a hospital? Merlin tried to remember last night but his thoughts kept slipping away from him. His head was so thick, like the world’s worst hangover. Had he gotten too drunk, was that it? Had he got into an accident?

He took a sharp breath and the pain in his side increased. Merlin looked down to see he was shirtless and that his right side was purple with bruises. He brought his hand up to his face and winced. He could feel two cuts on his cheek and another on his head. The whole area was so sore and swollen that even touching it lightly hurt.

Then there was a soft sighing noise in the corner and Merlin looked up, a gasp dying in his throat.

Arthur was sat on a chair a few feet away, fast asleep. There was a cut on his face too, and a little blood on his shirt. And a few bruises and scratches on his arm, almost like… almost like someone had tried to defend themselves against him.

Merlin was suddenly horribly aware of his half-nakedness. He turned to see his shirt folded on the side table and grabbed it. It was only on the third attempt to do up the buttons that he realised his hands were shaking too hard to hold them.

Why was he half-naked in Arthur’s bed, covered in cuts and bruises? Why couldn’t he remember anything from the night before? And why, if he had fallen down the stairs or something equally innocent, did Arthur look like he’d been in a struggle with someone?

He thought back as hard as he could but it was only bits and pieces after arriving at The Black Knight. He remembered his first drink, remembered a snatched conversation with Gwen before she left for the night. Remembered Arthur being there. Then… nothing.

He liked Arthur. He’d been nursing a crush on him for quite some time now. If he admitted it to himself, he’d even gone out last night hoping perhaps something might happen between them.

But not like this. Merlin felt a tear slip down his cheek. He didn’t want to believe it could be true but why else would he be here like this? If Arthur hadn’t… hadn’t taken advantage of him…

Suddenly panic cut through the fog in his head. Arthur might wake up at any moment. He had to go. He made one more fumbling attempt at his buttons and then gave up, spotting his jacket on the floor and slipping it on. He tiptoed past Arthur, every nerve in his body alight, heart hammering in his chest. The door creaked when it opened and Arthur shifted a little, but didn’t wake.

Merlin took one last look at him, chest tight with shock and grief.

Then he closed the door and ran.


	2. The Night Before

Arthur had never known Merlin was such a lightweight.  

True, they had never been out drinking together before, though not for Arthur’s lack of trying. Merlin had joined The Avalon Trust at a particularly busy time and the previously regular "legendary" Friday night drinks had fallen by the wayside as people stayed late to meet deadlines. And Arthur wasn’t quite brave enough yet to ask Merlin out for a drink just the two of them, despite all signs suggesting Merlin might be receptive to the offer. He’d only been at the company five months but they’d become firm friends before his first week was out. Now Arthur struggled to remember a time before Merlin joined him every day for lunch or gossiped with him in the kitchen or teased him when he sent out passive aggressive emails (totally justified emails, by the way, because honestly how hard was it to throw the teabags in the compost bin anyway?). But, alas, the potential for awkwardness with an office romance was high. Even more so if Arthur had been horribly misreading Merlin’s frequent smiles and occasional arm touches and his invitation was rejected.

So Arthur had been playing it safe, until Elena’s leaving drinks provided the perfect excuse. The office’s universal love for their HR manager ensured that everyone made a mammoth effort to finish their work in time to leave at 6 and decamp to The Black Knight on the corner for an evening of celebration.

A little too much celebration in Merlin’s case. Arthur could have sworn he’d only had two drinks (he should know, he hadn’t really left Merlin’s side all night, in what he hoped was an affectionate and not embarrassingly clingy way) but after Merlin had gone to get that second round of gin and tonics, he’d been slurring like nobody’s business.

“Should have known you couldn’t handle your drink,” he said teasingly and Merlin aimed a grin at Arthur’s left ear.

“M’not drunk.”

“Sure, sure,” Arthur said fondly. He reached out to right Merlin where he was listing to the side and caught the eye of the thickset bartender, who seemed to be staring rather intently at Merlin.

Arthur inwardly suppressed a shudder. He’d come here before and that bartender – Val? – was a grade A, certified creep. He’d made a clumsy pass at Gwen a few months ago and when Arthur swooped to her aid, he’d been subjected to a few leering comments of his own (seemingly the guy was an equal opportunities pervert). Gwen, irritated that Arthur had presumed to save her from a situation she was capable of handling himself, had deserted him like the traitor she was and Arthur had been forced to use some quite curt language before Val had desisted with his advances.

The guy had avoided Arthur ever since and the feeling was entirely mutual. Still, he might have cause to exchange further harsh words if Val pulled his little act on Merlin tonight.

Normally he’d lump Merlin with Gwen in the category of people who could handle themselves perfectly well, thank you very much. But right now the man was drunk as a lord and Arthur intended to look out for him.

He glared at Val until the man scuttled away and then he turned his attention back to Merlin.

“Shall I get you some water?”

“Not drunk,” Merlin mumbled.

“Course not,” Arthur said soothingly. “Water might help, though?”

“Only had two drinks…” Merlin said, head drooping. That had been Arthur’s count too, although he wondered if Merlin had forgotten a shot or two along the way. Elyan was a devil for sneaky rounds of tequila when you least expected it.

“I’ll get some anyway,” he said and Merlin gave a sort of nod. His eyes kept blinking shut and Arthur thought warmly that he had been working too hard lately. The mad rush of the last few months was finally over; hopefully they could all get back to a less manic pace in the office now.

He also realised tonight was clearly not the night to make a move on Merlin, not when the man could barely see two inches in front of his face. He couldn’t exactly be too upset about it. Merlin was worth waiting for.

“Then we’ll get a cab, yeah?” he said. Merlin only lived a few streets from Arthur. He’d see him safely into his flat and walk home from there. And his reward for leaving the drinks early would be to tease Merlin relentlessly about his lightweight status on Monday.

He got a pint glass of water at the bar (not from Val the creep, thankfully) and then tapped Elena on the shoulder to say goodbye. It got a bit emotional – they’d started at the company the exact same day and it was weird to think of the place without her – but it wasn’t like he wouldn’t see her again. They had a standing weekly squash date, for one thing, and Arthur was in dire need of a victory after two straight months of defeat.

After a prolonged hug and a small bout of sniffling (on Arthur’s side rather than Elena’s, though he’d deny it if anyone asked), he finally made it back to the table with Merlin’s water.

Except the man himself was nowhere to be seen.

His coat was still on the rack so Arthur assumed he’d gone to the bathroom. He steeled himself and headed for the Gents, entirely expecting to find Merlin vomiting his guts up.

But there was no one in there.

Confused, Arthur headed back out into the pub and scanned the crowd. He couldn’t see Merlin anywhere.

The idiot must have tried to walk home by himself. It was a good six miles, he was never going to make it in his state. Heaving a sigh, Arthur lifted Merlin’s jacket from the rack and stepped out into the night air.

The street was empty too and that did perplex Arthur slightly. Unless Merlin had sobered up pretty rapidly, he couldn’t have gotten that far.

He paused, unsure. Then it struck him to do a circuit round the pub. Perhaps Merlin had come outside to throw up.

The pub garden yielded nothing but there was an odd scuffling noise coming from the alley at the side. Arthur quickened his pace, hoping Merlin hadn’t tripped and knocked himself out somehow, he was hardly graceful at the best of times.

When he reached the mouth of the alley, it took him several seconds to process what he was seeing.

Merlin was being held against the wall, face pressed to the brick work. There was blood trickling down from his forehead and his temple and he was squirming desperately, struggling against the hands holding him in place.

The hands that belonged to Val the bartender.

And one of them was pushing Merlin against the wall and the other was at Merlin’s hips, loosening his belt, tugging at his jeans.

Arthur’s body reacted before his mind could fully comprehend the horror. He ran forward and slammed into Val, with no finesse or technique. He just wanted him as far away from Merlin as possible.

The momentum carried them both to the ground. Val got up quicker than Arthur expected, swiping out with an uncoordinated fist that Arthur easily repelled. He got a good solid punch in to the side of Val’s face, flooring him long enough to turn back to Merlin.

His friend had crumpled to the ground, shirt half torn and belt unbuckled. His eyes were unfocused and he was whimpering slightly, like a child in pain. Arthur started to go to him and then a weight crashed into his torso, knocking him to the ground. He hit his cheek hard on the cement and it took him a few seconds to collect his wits. By that point Val was already on top of him, trying to pin his hands.

The man was strong but Arthur had pure fury coursing through his veins. He brought his knee up into Val’s groin and then rolled them over. It only took two punches for Val’s eyes to roll back in his head, for his grip on Arthur’s arms to slacken.

Arthur wanted to keep going for a second, to smash Val’s face into smithereens for daring to hurt Merlin, but better sense prevailed. Merlin needed him more.

He limped back over to Merlin’s side. His friend was lying still now, still awake and breathing, but seemingly totally unaware of his surroundings. His eyes were half open and the cuts on his face were still bleeding sluggishly.

“Stay with me, Merlin,” Arthur said a little desperately, as he fished his phone from his pocket. “Everything’s going to be fine.”

By the time he had finished talking to the 999 operator, Val had staggered to his feet and stumbled from the alleyway. Arthur didn’t give chase. He focused on Merlin instead, supporting his head in his lap, talking to him in a low, soothing voice.

Merlin gave no indication that he could hear him but Arthur didn’t stop till the paramedics arrived.

 

***

 

The next few hours passed in a blur. Arthur rode along in the ambulance, gave the staff all the information he had. He did the same thing when the police showed up; as it was clear Merlin would be in no fit state to talk for a while.

Of course, the Rohypnol it turned out Val had given him was specially designed to blur the victim’s memory. Arthur had no idea if Merlin would be able to remember anything from the night at all.

The doctor on call was very calm, for which Arthur was grateful. She talked Arthur through the test results, explained to him the side-effects, reassured him that Merlin wouldn’t suffer any lasting physical damage. She let him sit in as they cleaned up the cuts on Merlin’s face and checked the bruises on his torso. Merlin was horribly, disconcertingly limp the whole way through. No matter how many times the doctor said it was normal, Arthur couldn’t shake his feeling of dread. He couldn’t help but think if he took his eyes off Merlin, even for a second, then something awful was going to happen.

They ended up discharging Merlin to Arthur’s care, which Arthur found vaguely shocking. He wanted Merlin to stay in the hospital, where it was safe and there was medicine and people who could check on him. But the doctor insisted that Merlin just needed to sleep and gave Arthur a list of symptoms to watch out for.

“These are worse case scenarios only,” she said gently. “He’s through the worst of it now, he’ll likely just be tired and disorientated tomorrow.”

The last thing she gave him before they left was a printed out sheet with a list of local counselling services. Arthur didn’t ask why. He knew an attack like tonight’s couldn’t be brushed off lightly.

Merlin was steady enough to walk supported when the cab arrived at Arthur’s. It was just like escorting someone very drunk, or maybe an extremely tired child. He flopped down the minute Arthur set him on the bed, eyes already shut.

After much deliberation, Arthur decided to remove Merlin’s shirt and not his trousers. The shirt was stained with dirt and blood and Arthur knew Merlin would be more comfortable without it, but the trousers… it felt wrong to take them off after what Merlin had been through tonight.

It took a lot of manoeuvring to get Merlin unbuttoned and he was unnervingly boneless as Arthur guided his hands through the shirt sleeves. He managed to settle him with some effort on the pillows and then pulled the covers up to his chin. Merlin made a few murmuring sounds then went still. Arthur knew he was only asleep but he still had to check for himself a few times that Merlin was still breathing.

When he was finally as satisfied as he could be, Arthur settled in the chair next to his bed, turning the overhead lights off and the sconces on. Arthur had no intention of sleeping himself. Merlin could choke on his own vomit, he could wake up disorientated, he could trip or fall. Nothing else could happen to him tonight. Not when so much had happened already…

Arthur didn’t realise he was crying until he felt his shoulders start to shake. If he hadn’t got there when he did, if he’d have been only a minute later...

But Val had done enough damage as it was. Arthur couldn’t begin to imagine the effect this was going to have on Merlin. To be targeted like that, to have the illusion of safety ripped away so brutally on what should have been a fun night with his friends.

A girl in Arthur's halls at uni had her drink spiked once. Her friends had sensed something amiss and taken her home before anything had happened but she didn’t go out for the rest of that year. They’d all gone to a safety lecture on campus after that. Some of the other lads hadn’t taken it seriously but Arthur paid attention. As a newly out fresher he’d only dipped his toes into the gay scene round Bristol but all the clubs he went to were plastered in posters about looking after your drink and telling the bartender if you felt unsafe. He knew it wasn’t just women who were at risk.

And yet he’d known Val was a creep before tonight and he hadn’t done anything about it.

Arthur bit down hard on his lip. He’d never forgive himself for not acting on his gut instinct about Val. But it wasn’t the time for self-recrimination. He had to focus on Merlin, and whatever he needed to recover. Starting by taking him to the police station in the morning so he’d have a friend with him as he made his statement.

Try as he may, the guilt wouldn’t go away. Arthur compensated by checking on Merlin every few minutes, making sure his chest was still rising and falling.

He felt slightly less anxious when the sun finally rose, as though Merlin had come through the most dangerous time of night. Perhaps that was why he settled back a little in his chair, just closing his eyes long enough to blink the sleep away…

 

It was after nine when he woke again.

And Merlin was gone.


	3. The Morning After

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for disappearing, my internet is dead and I haven't quite reached the level of brazeness to upload fic at work (yet...)

Merlin was sick twice on the way home. The first time was after running three streets towards his house, ignoring the ache in his stomach and his chest, until something inside of him gave and he was retching on the side of the pavement.

The second time was when he thought he saw Arthur crossing the street towards him.

It took him nearly a minute to fit the keys in his front door lock and his legs gave out almost as soon as he got inside. He slumped against the doorway, panic making his arms shake, his heart race. It took nearly twenty minutes before he could move again and even then he could only crawl to the bathroom, checking and double checking the lock on the door before he stripped his clothes and turned the shower on.

Crying, body trembling, he forced himself to reach down and confirm what he already knew. He had not been penetrated last night. It had been a while and he would be able to tell.

It didn’t mean other things hadn’t happened.

Almost blind with tears Merlin stepped into the shower, the urge to get clean outweighing any other thoughts. The water stung his cuts, made his bruises ache, but he needed it. He didn’t know what had happened last night but he imagined traces of it all over his body, traces he needed to scrub away as soon as possible.

He stayed under long enough for the water to run cold and then he wrapped himself in the biggest towel they owned and huddled against the sink, his mind blank.

He didn’t come back to himself for at least half an hour. He was shivering and he wanted nothing more than to sleep but it was terrifying to leave the sanctuary of the locked bathroom. Merlin took it at a run in the end, bolting into his room and pushing his chair up against the door straight after. He didn’t even know what he was afraid of, only his roommate Gwen and her boyfriend Lance had keys, and he trusted them both with his life. But nothing was safe anymore.

He had trusted Arthur too.  

He dressed quickly, piling layers on layers, despite the warmth of the day. He didn’t know if he should attempt to plaster or bandage himself but nothing was bleeding and he didn’t want to look at the cuts if he could help it. He felt better with them covered up, although the glimpse he’d caught of his face in the mirror told him the worst damage was there.

It didn’t matter. There was no-one here to see and he was safe in his bedroom, with the door barred. No one could get to him.

He climbed into bed and pulled the covers up over his head, blocking out even the dim sunlight filtering through the closed curtains. Then he cried until sleep overtook him.

 

***

 

It was a knocking noise that roused him, close and persistent. For a second Merlin couldn’t remember why he was in bed fully clothed, or what time it was, and then it all came rushing back and he nearly choked on fear. It was Arthur, at his door, he had found Merlin and he was going to come in and Merlin had nothing to defend himself with and-

“Merlin? Are you in here?”

Even in his horror, he recognised the voice.

“Gwen?” he said, before he could stop himself, and his voice was thin, shaky.

“I can’t get in your room. Is everything okay? Lance said you were supposed to go swimming with him today but you never showed.”

Merlin was torn between wanting to hide and wanting to let her in. He got up from the bed and hovered by the door, biting his fingers.

“Merlin? I’m worried, please open up.”

That did it somehow. Merlin found himself moving the chair back, pulling the door open.

“It’s all dark in here, can I-”

Gwen flicked on the light before he could stop her. Instantly her face twisted in distress.

“Oh my God, Merlin, are you alright? What happened to you?”

“I don’t know,” Merlin said and burst into tears.

 

After two cups of strong sweet tea and several rounds of toast on the living room couch (Merlin’s throat felt so scratchy he could hardly bear to swallow but Gwen was patient and coaxed him on), Merlin was able to tell her all he knew. Which wasn’t much at all. And Gwen had left at half six to meet Lance and had stayed at his all night, so she couldn’t fill in any of the blanks for him.

But talking to her helped, not least because she was patient and gentle with him, and she didn’t say a word in defence of Arthur.

“We’ll find out what happened,” she kept repeating. “And whatever it is, we’ll all stand by you.”

She didn’t push him to go to the police yet either, even though he knew he’d have to face it eventually. She just reiterated that she was there for him and she’d do what he thought best.

It was past two in the afternoon by the time Merlin began to consider making a statement. He felt sick at the thought of it but he couldn’t shut himself in the flat forever. At least this way he’d have Gwen beside him.

He opened his mouth to ask her to take him to the station and then the doorbell rang.

Merlin turned his head and saw a familiar silhouette in the doorway.

“Gwen, it’s him,” he said and terror knifed through him.

“It’s alright, stay calm,” she said, squeezing his hand. “You just stay here, I’ll go and see what he wants.”

“No! Don’t answer it!”

“Merlin-”

“Don’t let him in, please,” Merlin begged.

Gwen looked torn.

“I won’t if you don’t want me to but he might be able to tell us-”

“I don’t want to hear it!” Merlin interrupted, hysteria rising in his throat. He could feel the panic creeping through his body again, threatening to overwhelm him. He just wanted to crawl back into bed and hide; he just wanted to pretend this wasn’t happening-

“Merlin-”

“Gwen, please!”

His voice broke halfway through and he was crying again, sinking down to the floor before he could stop himself.

“I don’t want to see him, please don’t let him in, please don’t Gwen-“

Gwen looked horrified.

“Okay, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Merlin. I’ll send him away. I won’t let him in.”

With a worried eye still on him, she put the chain on the door so it could only open up a crack.

Immediately Arthur’s face appeared in the gap.

“Gwen? Is Merlin there? Is he alright?”

Arthur sounded frantic, but frantic with what, Merlin didn’t know. Was it concern or was it guilt?

Another sob rose in his throat and he dropped lower to the carpet, terrified that Arthur might see him.

“He’s here, Arthur. He’s… he’s okay.”

“Thank God. Can I see him?”

“I… He… I think he needs to be alone right now.”

Gwen’s voice was shaking a little.

“I won’t stay long; I just need to see him for myself.”

Arthur’s voice was higher than usual. He could almost sound composed, but for the tremor in his voice.

_Concern or guilt?_

“Maybe later-” Gwen started to say.

“Just tell him I’m here, okay? Let him decide if he wants to see me. I won’t stay long.”

There was an excruciating pause.

“He doesn’t want to see you,” Gwen said at last, her voice very quiet.

Merlin bit down hard on his hand, to keep himself from crying out.

“Oh,” Arthur said, after what felt like a full minute of silence. “Okay. I understand. I…”

Merlin suddenly couldn’t bear to hear any more. He pressed his hands to his ears, drowning out the sound. Then he shut his eyes and pulled his knees up to his chin, rocking back and forth.

After a minute or so, he felt someone beside him and he flinched away.

But it was only Gwen.

Her hands were tentative on his shoulder and when he didn’t protest, she pulled him into a hug. They stayed like that on the floor for a while, Gwen stroking his hair as he cried into her chest.

“It’s alright, shhh. He’s gone. You’re alright. I’m here.”

When he finally calmed, he was ashamed at his outburst.

“I’m sorry, I-I can’t think straight-”

“Merlin, it’s alright.”

Gwen’s voice was soothing and Merlin clung to it like a raft in a storm.

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me.”

“I just… I can’t remember anything.”

Even saying the words made Merlin want to panic again.

“Whatever Arthur says… it’s just his side of the story, I don’t have any way of knowing if it’s real…”

He gulped in a deep breath. He trusted Arthur, or at least he’d thought he could. But now, nothing was certain. How could he ever be sure of what happened last night?

Out of nowhere, it came to him.

“The CCTV! Gwen, the pub, it’s got CCTV. I’ll be able to see who I left with!”

He staggered to his feet, ignoring the pain in his side.

Gwen had risen with him, a slight frown on her face.

“They might not be allowed to show us-”

“But you know them right, you’ve been going there for years?”

“Yes but-“

“Can we at least ask?”

“Merlin,” Gwen said quietly. “Are you sure it’s a good idea to see the tape yourself?”

“What?”

Merlin suddenly felt sick to his stomach.

“Because I’ll see Arthur attacking me?” he said hollowly.

“No! No because… because it might be better if you remembered yourself and I-I don’t want you to see anything that upsets you.”

Gwen’s eyes were full of tears.

“Gwen, it’s…” Merlin swallowed, struggling for words. “It… it can’t be worse than what I’m imagining.”

Gwen bit her lip and then nodded.

“Alright. We’ll go.”

 

***

 

The pub wasn’t open when they arrived but Gwen banged hard on the door until they heard a grumbling noise within.

“We’re closed,” a voice snapped, even as the door unbolted. “Come back in an hour or- oh, hi Gwen.”

Percy’s face relaxed into a smile.

“Leave something, did ya?” he said, opening the door fully. “I didn’t see anything behind the bar but if you want to-”

“We didn’t leave anything,” Gwen said, pulling Merlin in behind her. “We need to take a look at your CCTV.”

Percy’s grin faded.

“Why?”

Gwen cast a look at Merlin, as if unsure how much to reveal. He wanted nothing more than to hide away but he stepped forward instead, licking his dry lips.

“I got- hurt last night. And I think it was here at the pub.”

Percy scanned Merlin’s cuts and bruises with a look of shock.

“No one told me there was an incident last night.”

“Who was working?” Gwen asked.

“Val and Sophia but… well, Sophia did call me last night but I was asleep. I tried her this morning and she didn’t answer.”

“Have you seen Val?” Gwen said sharply.

“No. Only just got here to open up a few minutes ago. Did the police come?”

“I don’t know,” Gwen admitted. “I’d already gone home and Merlin…”

“I can’t remember anything,” Merlin said quietly.

Percy looked uneasy.

“I don’t think I can just show you the CCTV, if something did happen then the police might need to-”

“Please,” Merlin burst out, unable to stop himself. “I need to- I need to know what happened. I need to see, it’s my right to see-”

He broke off, tears stinging his eyes. Gwen moved closer to rub at his arm and Percy looked distressed.

“We just want to look,” Gwen said firmly. “Please, Percy.”

Percy took a long look at Merlin and then sighed.

“This way.”

There were three screens for the three cameras outside the pub.

“Which view do you-”

“The alleyway,” Gwen said instantly and she sounded sure enough that Merlin didn’t question why. Now that he was here his resolve had crumbled slightly. He didn’t know if he was prepared for what he might see and his stomach was clenched tight with fear.

But Percy was already maximised the alley screen and it was too late to back out now.

Percy put the tape on double speed but there was nothing for a long time. The odd stray cat wandering along, a lost drunk taking a piss against the wall. Twice a blonde woman (presumably Sophia) appeared, lugging empty kegs out. Other than that, no sign of human life until the camera clock passed eight pm.

Then there was a flurry of movement and Gwen’s hand shot forward to press play.

Merlin saw himself stumble into view, half supported by a heavy arm around his shoulder.

For one heart stopping moment Merlin thought _Arthur_ and then the figure moved forward into the light.

Wrong shape, wrong hair, wrong face. Not Arthur.

“That’s Val,” Percy said, startled, and for a second an image flashed into Merlin’s mind, this same Val serving Merlin’s drink, the way his hand slid over Merlin’s as he took the money…

The room was too hot, suddenly, the air too stifling. Barely breathing, Merlin watched as Val dragged his onscreen self towards the wall, tried to stand him up against it. Merlin’s eyes were unfocussed, his legs unsteady. He seemed to be trying to speak and Val was shaking his head, was smiling, smiling and leaning in…

Merlin watched, paralysed, as Val began to kiss him.

The Merlin onscreen pulled away after only a second or two, looking dazed. Val moved in again and Merlin turned his head away, resisting Val’s attempts to tug his chin back around.

Val stepped back and Merlin prayed that was it, that there would be no more.

Then Val backhanded him across the face, knocking him to the ground.

Gwen gasped and it sounded horribly loud in the silent room. The CCTV had no sound but Merlin didn’t need it to know his onscreen self was calling for help, his lips moving weakly as he attempted to crawl away.

Val hauled him up again, smashed his face into the brick wall.

Merlin couldn’t move, onscreen or off. Gwen’s hand was clutching his but all he felt was numb, watching himself struggle in vain.

When Val’s hands reached for his jeans, Merlin felt he couldn’t watch anymore, he couldn’t stand to see what happened next. Perhaps it had been better not to remember all along than to see himself like this, completely helpless and alone and unable to get away…

He was leaning forward to turn the video off when a blur passed across the screen.

And suddenly Val was on the ground and Merlin was sliding down the wall and someone was crouching down to check he was alright-

Merlin didn’t need Gwen’s hand squeezing his own to understand what he was seeing. He watched as Arthur fought Val away, watched as he phoned an ambulance, watched as he tucked his jacket under Merlin’s head and checked his breathing and held his hand.

He didn’t stop watching until the paramedics came and Merlin was stretchered out of the alleyway, Arthur by his side.

 

There was no conscious relief, not yet. Merlin felt too wrung out for that, too drained and shell shocked. But there was a flicker of something like solace at the back of his mind, that he did not have to add a friend’s betrayal to the trauma of the night. That Arthur hadn’t been the one to hurt him at all.

Percy was apologising but Merlin didn’t want to hear it. He sat down heavily on a bar stool and let Gwen instruct Percy to speak to Sophia, to see if Val could be tracked down. He didn’t look up again until he felt her hand on his shoulder.

“Are you alright?” she asked quietly. “Stupid question, I know.”

Merlin nodded, his throat tight. He didn’t know exactly how he felt yet. None of it had sunk in.

“I didn’t drink that much, Gwen, I swear,” he said, because he didn’t understand how he had been that out of it.

“I know, love. I think he put something in your drink.”

Merlin didn’t ask if it was just a guess, or if Arthur had told her. He bowed his head, wondering if Val had picked him out from the beginning, or if it was just a crime of opportunity and he was the unlucky one to order next.

It was almost too huge to contemplate. He lived in a world where people did things like this, and on an intellectual level he’d always known it but it had never seemed so stark before.

“I think we need to go the police station,” Gwen said, rubbing his shoulder. “They’ll be waiting for your statement.”

Merlin didn’t know how helpful his statement would be. His memory of last night was still no fuller. Watching the CCTV had been like seeing footage of someone else entirely – if it were not for the bruises and cuts that marked his body, he would have trouble believing it was him.

Then again, he supposed his statement wouldn’t be vital in this case. The CCTV gave a clearer picture than he ever could. One he doubted he’d ever be able to forget.

 

The police officer confirmed this for Merlin after he’d given his patchy, sparse account of the night before. She told him about the hospital visit he couldn’t remember, about the Rohypnol they’d found in his bloodstream, about the CCTV Sophia had already copied for them last night.

“Between the test results and the video footage, the case against Mr Parker is fairly strong. Of course, some things may come back to you in due course and I’d like you to give me a call if they do. But we’ll still be able to press charges without your testimony.”

“Thank you,” Merlin said, his voice small, as it had been throughout the interview. He felt like he was disappearing inside of himself, like he was shrinking down to nothing.

The police were kind, more kind than he had expected, but Merlin wanted to leave. He was exhausted and in pain and he didn’t want to be around people who didn’t know him anymore.

But there was one more stop he needed to make before going home.

“Could you drop me off at Arthur’s?” he asked when they finally got back into the car.

Gwen patted his leg.

“Of course. Shall I wait outside for you?”

“I don’t know how long I’ll be.”

Gwen smiled and swung out of the car park.

“I’ll wait anyway,” she said and Merlin managed a sort of smile in return.

 

***

 

He couldn’t read the expression on Arthur’s face when he opened the door. It could have been hope or it could have been wariness. But Arthur didn’t falter when he asked to come in, waving him straight through to the living room.

Merlin didn’t think he was imagining the distance Arthur kept between them, the way he gave Merlin the chair near the door and stood over by the fire, hands open and visible.

The care being taken made Merlin want to weep with guilt.

“I saw the CCTV,” he said at last and thought he heard an intake of breath. He shut his eyes for a second, tried to compose himself.

“I need to-” he started, at the same time that Arthur said, “Are you alright?”

“Am I alright?”

“Not, I mean, I just meant physically – I know you can’t just be alright after…”

Merlin had never heard Arthur tongue tied before. His eyes weren’t meeting Merlin’s but he seemed to be making a conscious effort not to look away either.

“I-I’m fine. Physically.”

“Good. That’s good-”

“Aren’t you angry at me?” Merlin interrupted.

Arthur’s face creased.

“Why would I be angry?”

Merlin couldn’t look at him anymore. He twisted his hands in his lap, throat tight.

“Because I… I…”

“Because you woke up confused and in pain?” Arthur said softly. “Because you couldn’t remember anything that happened? Because you were in the aftermath of a huge trauma and you came to the most logical conclusion based on what you could see? No, Merlin. I’m not angry at you for any of that.”

For a moment Merlin had the same feeling he’d had around Arthur once before, when a homeless man had taken a swing at Arthur in the street and Arthur had talked him down, bought him a sandwich, and gave him details of a shelter round the corner. And Merlin, watching all this, could only think that it was impossible for someone to be as noble and selfless as Arthur seemed to be, as downright _decent_.

“You should be angry,” he mumbled, tears pricking his eyes. “You should be…”

“Are you angry at me?” Arthur asked. “For not noticing you were gone sooner? For not realising you couldn’t be that drunk that quickly?”

“Of course not,” Merlin said, horrified. “It wasn’t your fault-”

“It wasn’t yours either.”

Arthur’s tone was gentle but it brooked no arguments. Merlin unclenched his hands and nodded.

There were little voices in his head whispering already about how he should have watched his drink, should have fought back harder, should have seen Val coming. Merlin knew they wouldn’t be easy to quell. But just for a moment, here in the warm light of Arthur’s fire, he let himself believe that there was nothing he could have done.

“Thank you,” he said. “For coming to find me.”

“Of course,” Arthur said simply.

It was as though they both knew no words could be adequate; Merlin in his gratitude, and Arthur in his sorrow. But Merlin hoped Arthur understood how deep his thanks went, how much he owed Arthur for doing what he did.

Thinking the worst of his friend had been a poor repayment indeed. But for once Merlin decided to take Arthur at his word, to remember that he had been hurt and frightened and not to blame for jumping to conclusions. Because Arthur truly didn’t blame him, he could see that much.

So he reached down deep inside himself and mustered the best smile he could, lopsided and brittle though it was, and said:

“So much for those legendary Friday night drinks.”

There was a pause and for a second Merlin thought Arthur might not join in, that today might be too serious for even an attempt at levity. Then Arthur’s lip twitched.

“I’ve gained a new found respect for working late. Perhaps my father was right all along.”

“Yeah,” Merlin said, and it was as far as he could go today, when he was still strung out and tired beyond belief. But with any luck it was enough to show Arthur that this didn’t have to be the end of their friendship. That things were likely going to hurt for a while but they would get better one day.

That was Merlin’s hope, anyway.

They stood in silence for a moment or two longer.

“Well. Gwen’s waiting for me so…” Merlin said awkwardly and Arthur nodded.

“I’ll see you out.”

It wasn’t until he was at the door that Arthur said, half-shyly.

“Can I give you a text tomorrow? Just to check in?”

“Yes,” Merlin said emphatically. “I would like that.”

And somehow that felt like enough, for now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a little epilogue to go now!


	4. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No idea why this took me so long to get out! Hope you enjoy.

In the face of the evidence against him, Val pleaded guilty and was sentenced to seven years. Arthur didn’t think it was long enough; then again, he knew he’d only have been happy if Val was locked up for life.

He was glad Merlin didn’t have to go through the stress of a trial, at least. A few of his memories had come back from the night but it was mostly still a blur. He knew Merlin hated the fact that he would never fully remember, that part of his life had been stolen away from him permanently. 

Merlin was surprisingly un-resistant to seeing a counsellor after the sentencing, until he came home after two sessions and said he didn’t want to go anymore. Arthur and Gwen both tried to find out what the issue was, but Merlin just said that he hadn’t found it helpful. That it was easier to keep busy and look ahead rather than dwelling on things, and he felt better every day.

In his defence, Merlin did seem to be coping well. He continued to excel at work, and if he wasn’t quite the same sunny presence he’d been around the office before, he still had a smile and a hello for everyone.

Arthur kept a close eye on him but he didn’t want to force Merlin to go back to counselling, or try to second guess how he was feeling. Merlin was an adult and he could make his own choices. Arthur only wanted to be there to support him if he needed it.

Merlin coped until he didn’t. Late one Thursday night, Elyan came back to the office to collect some papers and found Merlin sobbing at his computer. Gwen took him to the GP the next day and he was signed off work for two weeks.

Arthur took some long overdue time off to be with him. He didn’t want to crowd Merlin, but he stopped by his flat in the mornings to check in and bring some food for lunch. Sometimes Merlin would be sleeping on the couch, eyes rimmed dark with exhaustion, and Arthur would leave the food for him to find. Sometimes he would be awake, curled up in the armchair with a blanket around him, staring into space.

Arthur would sit and talk to him then, usually, even if Merlin didn’t respond much. But towards the end of the first week, Merlin would sometimes ask Arthur to put a film on. Then he would move to the couch and they would watch it together, cups of tea in hand. Merlin still didn’t speak much but Arthur had to hope that his presence was of some comfort.

Merlin went to a new counsellor after that, an older lady named Alice. This one seemed to work out better, although Merlin told Arthur he still found it hard to open up. Arthur confided to Merlin that he had seen a grief counsellor at uni, twelve years after his mother’s death.

“I didn’t like going either. But by the end… it was easier. To deal with what happened.”

“I want it to be easier,” Merlin had said quietly.

After a while, perhaps it was. Merlin had a staggered return to work, with a reduced workload. He had regular one to ones with his manager, who was understanding about his needs. His GP also prescribed him some anti-anxiety medication, to help him stay calm when he was reminded of the attack. And he kept going to see Alice, even when he didn’t want to.

Arthur was proud of him, if proud was the right word. He had nothing but respect for the way Merlin kept on keeping on. But he constantly reassured his friend that taking a break was an option too. That if things ever got too much, and he needed a few days in bed, there was no shame in that.

And somehow, the film watching became a habit. At least one night a week, Arthur would go round and sit on the sofa with Merlin, sometimes joined by Gwen and Lance, and they would watch something silly and entertaining, and eat popcorn, and enjoy being mindless for a while.

It was the highlight of Arthur’s week. And if in the course of an evening, he got to hear Merlin laugh again, then so much the better.

 

***

 

Ten months after Val’s attack, Merlin went back to a pub for the first time.

The occasion was Elyan’s birthday. And the chosen pub wasn’t The Black Knight, a place that none of them had frequented since. It was a well-lit open plan bar called The Duchess, with an entrance onto a busy main road, and no alleyways or passages around it.

Despite the care taken with the location, Merlin was clearly nervous and it wasn’t as though Arthur could blame him. He was sat near to the exit, looking around anxiously every few seconds to scan the room. He wasn’t drinking and Arthur had decided not to drink either. In truth, he hadn’t drunk much since what had happened. There was a part of him that wanted to be on full alert at all times, to make sure he’d notice immediately if something was off with one of his friends.

He still blamed himself a little, but Merlin had told him not to be stupid.

“If I’m not allowed to blame myself – and Alice is annoyingly insistent on that point – then you’re definitely not either.”

It was almost a surprise to Arthur that Merlin could talk to him openly about things like that. But Merlin seemed to trust Arthur for whatever reason, seemed able to share his feelings a little more as each day passed. Arthur felt honoured by Merlin’s confidences, and privately vowed to always prove himself worthy of that trust.

As close as they had become, Arthur knew the signs of Merlin’s anxiety pretty well by now. It was no surprise that the pub had put him on edge, and Arthur stayed alert to the fact that Merlin might need to leave at any moment. But he was keeping his composure quite well until his phone buzzed and he nearly jumped out of his skin.

Arthur watched as Merlin checked the screen with a slight frown and then put the phone back down.

“Bad news?”

“Oh, um, no. Just a… message. I- Gwen got me to download a dating app last night.”

Arthur tried his best to ignore the minute twinge in his chest. It was churlish to be anything but happy for the fact that Merlin was putting himself out there again.

“That’s great,” he said and was relieved to hear he didn’t sound insincere. “Anyone nice?”

“No,” Merlin said immediately. “I mean, maybe. I… it doesn’t really feel right.”

Then Arthur really did feel bad for his momentary pang. It wasn’t about him and his feelings, it was about Merlin’s recovery.

“There’s no pressure if it doesn’t feel right,” he said gently. “You could try again later. Or maybe we could go to an event, if the internet thing’s putting you off?”

“No, it’s not… it’s not that I don’t feel ready to date…”

Merlin seemed to be having difficulty expressing himself.

“No one would judge you for not being ready-”

“I am ready,” Merlin interrupted. “I am, that’s not it, it’s just… I don’t want to date any of these men.”

Arthur nodded.

“Okay, so we could go to one of those speed dating things if you-”

“Arthur!”

Merlin was biting his lip so hard Arthur was worried he’d draw blood.

“I’ve already met someone I like. Thing is…” Merlin’s voice dropped low. “I don’t know if he likes me.”

So there was someone. Merlin was looking directly into Arthur’s eyes and again Arthur had to fight hard to keep any trace of disappointment from his voice.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he said. “Who wouldn’t like you? I mean you’re smart and funny and interesting, and if this guy can’t see that-”

“Arthur,” Merlin said again, and there was something insistent in his tone.

There was also a warm pressure on Arthur’s hand and it took him a long moment to realise that it was Merlin’s own.

Oh.

He was processing that for long enough that Merlin began to draw away, a look of panic crossing his face, before Arthur squeezed back.

Merlin blinked at him.

“Does that mean-”

Arthur swallowed hard, happiness welling up inside of him.

“Like I said. Who wouldn’t like you?”

Merlin’s face broke into the sweetest smile and Arthur wanted nothing more than to lean over and kiss it off. But he held back, unsure of how fast it was wise to go.

Merlin seemed to read his mind.

“I don’t know yet,” he said softly. “About… sex and stuff. I don’t know if I’m ready.”

Arthur smiled, bringing Merlin’s hand up to his mouth to kiss.

“That’s fine. We’ll go at your pace.”

He’d go as slow as Merlin needed, for as long as he liked. Just as long as they could be together.

For a moment they just smiled at each other and then Merlin looked around.

“Wanna go grab some dinner?”

“Yes please,” Arthur said, sure that Elyan would forgive them for skipping out.

It was only when they stepped out into the street that Merlin hesitated. Confused, Arthur stopped with him.

Then Merlin leaned in to peck him on the cheek.

"Couldn't help myself," he said softly and Arthur felt as fluttery and excited as if Merlin had kissed him to within an inch of his life.

"You're blushing!"

"I'm not!" Arthur said, but he knew that he was.

"Are too."

"It's just the cold," Arthur said firmly, blithely ignoring the evening sun shining down on them. Merlin gave him a knowing grin.

"Perhaps you're right. My fingers are a bit chilly," he said, waggling them suggestively.

"I can fix that," Arthur said and he took Merlin's hand within his own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!


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